Tahoe
by Friscogirl
Summary: Heyes and Curry decide it's time for a little vacation; but it's hard to enjoy "rest and relaxation" when greed rears its ugly head.


Hannibal Heyes decided it was time to take it easy for a while. He and his best friend and cousin Kid Curry had just delivered a dozen head of stray cattle to a buyer in Stockton, California. They were five hundred dollars richer; their saddlebags bulged with fresh trail supplies; no one with a badge seemed to be paying any particular attention to them. They'd spent a few days enjoying Stockton's plentiful saloons and gambling halls. Now Hannibal Heyes wanted an adventure.

The Central Valley was particularly pretty in middle October. Fall rains had greened up the vast grasslands, the temperatures stayed in the pleasant seventies, the streams were running full. They were following a gentle path through a stand of oak trees. The horses were as content as their riders.

"We could do some fishing," Kid suggested. They'd done that a lot when they were kids, spending countless hours dangling their poles and baking in the hot Kansas summer sun, munching on fresh apples and sharing their dreams about the future. Those dreams were waylaid by the butchery of roving bands of soldiers from both sides fighting the Civil War. It took their families and landed them in a school for wayward boys. They ran away when they were barely into their teens, and hadn't had much time since then for sitting by a river and watching the clouds float by.

"Hmm," Heyes said non-commitedly.

"We could visit Silky in San Francisco."

"Hmm."

Kid sighed. "Or we could make camp. I'm hungry."

Heyes laughed. "You're _always _hungry, Kid!"

They found a tranquil spot along a curve of a stream, unsaddled and staked the horses, and started a fire burning. They worked in companionable silence, with a well practiced choreography of gathering wood, grinding coffee beans, laying some bacon on to cook with beans. Afterwards, a nap seemed in order. Curry stretched out on his bedroll and within minutes was peacefully snoring. Heyes propped his head up against his saddle and pulled out a book …"Roughing It"… by his favorite author, Mark Twain.

Soon he was immersed in Twain's description of a long journey through California up to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and the astounding beauty of some place called Lake Tahoe.

_So singularly clear was the water that where it was only twenty or thirty feet deep the bottom was so perfectly distinct that the boat seemed floating in the air! Yes, where it was even eighty feet deep. Every little pebble was distinct, every speckled trout, every hand's-breadth of sand. Down through the transparency of these great depths, the water was not merely transparent, but dazzling, brilliantly so._

Heyes laid the book aside and thought about that for a while. Sounded mighty pretty, water that clean and blue. They were already in the foothills of the Sierras. The lake couldn't be that much farther away. He thought about waking the Kid to propose the plan, but decided to let him slumber on. Kid was never much in a mood for a bright idea if he was rousted out of sleep to hear it.

The sun was drifting down behind the hills when Heyes decided to present his idea to Kid. They had decided to stay put for the evening, and jerry-rigged some poles to catch trout for supper. The Kid had already pulled in two fat ones, and was in particularly good humor.

"I've got an idea," Heyes finally commented.

Kid snorted. "A Hannibal Heyes plan? I thought we were out of that line of business!"

Heyes smiled. "We are, we are. No, this is an adventure kind of plan. I was reading in my book…."

"Oh no," Kid interrupted with a long-suffering look. Some of Heyes's craziest schemes came from books.

"Hear me out, hear me out." Heyes felt a tug on his line and focused for a moment on carefully raising the fish out of the rushing water. It was a good-sized trout, the biggest one so far, and Heyes beamed triumphantly at Curry.

"I was reading about this lake." He pulled the hook from the trout's mouth and laid the fish out on a rock.

"A lake?" The kid snorted again.

"Up in the Sierra Mountains. Mark Twain wrote about it. You remember him, don't you? I thought you liked his writing."

"Yeah. Twain. The guy with the funny alias."

"Anyway," Heyes persisted, "he describes this lake as so clean you can see eighty feet down to the bottom. Bluest blue he's ever seen. Bluer than the sky even."

Kid stared at Heyes for a moment as if he had lost his mind. "And once we go up there and look at this blue water, then what?"

Heyes pulled out his knife and began preparing his fish for the frying pan. "We'll take it as it comes, like we always do. Must be a hotel or something up there. Twain was riding in a boat when he looked down in the water. If there are boats and hotels, we'll find something. Poker, maybe. Who knows, maybe some work."

"Heyes, you get the craziest ideas sometimes!" Curry admonished. "How far away is this lake?"

Heyes shrugged. "Don't know exactly. The mountains aren't too far off. The weather's fine, so it should be an easy enough ride. We'll find a town along the way and get directions."

The sun slipped below the hill as they gathered up their fish and returned to the campfire.

"So, are you game?" Heyes asked, sniffing appreciatively as the trout began to sizzle.

Kid shrugged. "Don't have a better plan. " He grinned. "So let's go find that lake."

First they found a narrow road winding up through the hills towards the mountains, and after awhile came to the small town of Angels Camp. It wasn't much to look at; a few blocks of wood buildings, including a mercantile, a saloon, a couple of boarding houses, and thankfully, no sign of a sheriff's office. The assay office had a line of dusty men outside the door, suggesting that the hills that opened up the great gold rush back in the late 40's were still giving up gold dust.

Heyes nodded toward the saloon. "Let's get a beer and some information."

It was too early in the afternoon for much of a crowd. Two men were nursing a whiskey at a rickety table; the bartender was reading a newspaper as he polished up some glasses.

"Afternoon," Heyes greeted. "Two beers please."

Curry's eyes carefully scanned the small establishment for any sign of trouble before lifting up the beer glass. "Quiet town you got here," he commented.

"Until Saturday night, when the miners come in from the hills and want to drink the dust off."

"Still a lotta gold in these parts?" Heyes asked.

The bartender shrugged. "Men have dreams." He gave Heyes and Curry an assessing look, his eyes pausing for a moment on their well-oiled and tied-down guns. "What brings you our way? You don't have the look of men wanting to dig for gold."

Heyes smiled. "No, we're just passing through. Heading up to Lake Tahoe."

"That's a busy place these days. Lumber. Silver. Money's being made up there, or so they say."

Heyes and Curry shared an interested glance. "What's the best way to get up there?" Curry asked. "We're new to these parts."

"It's a far piece away. Maybe a hundred miles," the bartender said. "Haven't been there myself, but travelers come through going both directions. Uphill most of the way from here. The lake's more than a mile up in the mountains, don't you know."

"Not straight up, I hope," groaned the Kid.

The bartender ignored his comment. "Just keep following the road you come in on. It'll get you to the south shore of the lake. There's not much between here and there, but people say there's a grand hotel on the shore. Rich folk go up there from San Francisco. It's got a big casino and a dance floor."

"Casino, you say?" Heyes interjected. Lake Tahoe was sounding more interesting by the minute. "What's this hotel called?"

"I don't think you can miss it. It's called Tallac Resort. But you gotta have money to stay there. It's no place for drifters." The bartender clearly thought Heyes and Curry fit that category.

Heyes smiled and finished his drink. "Thanks for the beer. And the information."

The barkeep nodded and returned to his paper.

They kept going at an easy pace, following along a narrow river and through mile after mine of tall pines and cedars. They spotted deer and even some brown bears, and ate their fill of mountain trout. They seemed to have the road to themselves, and by the time they came upon the lake, they were rested and in good spirits.

Tahoe was vast, and as blue as Mark Twain promised. Heyes pulled up his horse to take it in. Mountains on all sides, some with snow on the highest peaks. The clouds reflected so clearly in the water it almost looked like another sky down there.

"You were right, Heyes. It's worth a look-see," Curry finally said. The air was cool and smelled of pine needles. He took a deep appreciative breath. "But I gotta admit, I'm ready for a soft bed and something other than fish and beans to eat."

Heyes grinned. "Then let's find that fancy hotel."

It wasn't hard to find; two large structures right alongside the shore, surrounded by pine trees and dotted with gardens. A pier jutted out into the water, alongside which a small steamer was docked. As they rode up to the main building a sign boasted it to be "The Grandest Resort in the World." Men in suits…city people from the look of them…and women in fine dresses walked around the grounds. They dismounted at the hitching post and heard music from some kind of string orchestra and the sound of people laughing.

"Good thing we're not broke," Curry commented.

"If this casino lives up to my expectations, we'll be adding to our saddlebags real soon," Heyes said, and handed his reins to the doorman. "Let's settle in and get rid of these trail clothes so we fit in better."

They came down to the hotel dining room bathed, shaved and dressed in their best suits. Side arms didn't exactly fit the décor, so they settled for derringers tucked in their jackets; out of sight, but within easy reaching distance. The dining room was large, with more than two dozen tables occupied mostly by couples, but also an occasional single man or family with children. Off in the corner a small group of musicians provided soft background music. They were quickly shown to a table, and Curry eyed the menu appreciatively, torn between the stewed rabbit or a cut of steak.

"Welcome, gentleman," said a pleasant voice, and they looked up as their waitress stopped at their table. "Is this your first evening with us?"

Heyes smiled his most charming smile. She was quite pretty, with auburn hair wound artfully behind her neck, green eyes and a splay of freckles across her cheeks. He put her age in the twenties. No sign of a wedding ring. "Yes ma'am, it certainly is," he replied.

"A fine place you have here, ma'am," Curry added. Heyes shot him a look which told Curry to let _him _ take the lead here. The Kid smiled. Message received.

The waitress laughed. "Goodness, it's not _my_ place! I am a mere employee."

"You are far from 'mere', ma'am," Heyes said gallantly. He got politely to his feet. "I'm Joshua Smith. And my friend here…." Curry belatedly stood as well…"is Thaddeus Jones."

"I'm Emma Cosgrove," she said with a slight blush.

The two men sat back down.

"What do you recommend?" Heyes asked, not wanting to stop the conversation.

"The venison is quite good," she replied. "And so is the roast chicken."

"Then I'll try the chicken," Heyes said, handing her the menu.

"Steak for me, please," Curry said, noticing Emma hadn't taken her eyes off Heyes.

She looked flustered for a moment. "Oh, yes. Yes, of course." As she hurried off to put in their orders, Heyes found his eyes following her. She had a graceful walk and an appealing smile. She carried herself confidently. He liked that in a woman. After a pleasant meal he wandered over to where she was industriously folding napkins.

"That was a wonderful dinner," he told her. "I didn't expect to find such a nice place so far up in the mountains."

A noisy group of men passed by them, trailed by cigar smoke and the smell of expensive liquor. Heyes noticed Emma stiffen, and her hands faltered over the linen.

"What is it?" he asked curiously. "Those men do something to upset you?"

Emma kept her eyes on her work for a moment, and then looked up hesitantly. "That was Sam Marlette," she said softly. "He owns the Sierra Nevada Wood and Lumber Company."

"Sounds like an important man." Heyes shifted his glance over to the group now seated at a table with a prime view of the lake. Two waitresses scurried about filling water glasses and bringing fresh bread. Marlette looked to be in his sixties; he had a full head of white hair and a no-nonsense moustache. His eyes were what Heyes really noticed; they were deep set and piercing, and seemed to take in the whole room. This was a man to be reckoned with.

"Yes," Emma said faintly. "He is indeed." She stacked up the napkins and started to move away. Heyes reached out and touched her elbow.

"I'd like to call on you," he said. "Would you be agreeable?"

Emma looked startled, and almost dropped her linens. "Why….yes," she murmured. "That would be very nice."

Heyes grinned, showing his dimples. "Wonderful! When do you have some time off?"

"Actually, tomorrow is my free day. But, Mr. Smith, I should tell you….." Her voice faded.

"What's worrying you?" He touched her arm again.

"It might worry _you_. You see, I….I have a son."

Heyes blinked. "I don't understand. You're married?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. At least not now. My husband died last year."

"I'm sorry," Heyes said softly.

"My son is eight."

"What's his name?"

"Hadley."

"Well then, why doesn't Hadley join us? You know what I'd like to do?" She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'd like to take one of those steamer rides around the lake. Take in the sights."

Her smile widened. "Why, that would be wonderful. Hadley will be most excited. Shall we meet at the pier at, say, ten o'clock?"

"You've got yourself a plan," Heyes said. He tipped his hat and walked off to find the Kid.

The Kid was already in the casino, enjoying not only the shiny roulette wheel, but also the bevy of young women circling through the crowd offering cigarettes and poker chips for sale. There was one girl in particular who had caught his eye; a petite blonde with a saucy grin and a daring red dress just one inch shy of being a scandal. He turned as Heyes came to his side.

"You look like you just cracked a safe," he teased.

Heyes smiled. "I'm gonna see Emma tomorrow."

"Emma. Humph! No slowing YOU down, I see!"

They both watched in satisfaction as the needle stopped on the Kid's bet and he pulled in a pile of twenties.

Heyes clapped him on the shoulder. "You gonna stay with the wheel?" The Kid nodded, and placed another bet. Heyes looked around the large room. It was huge, offering every type of gambling a man could hope for.

"Look!" Heyes exclaimed in delight. "They have electric lights!"

Kid admired the ceiling while the wheel turned. "Yup. Dealer told me there's more than five hundred in here."

Heyes marveled, feeling not unlike a kid at Christmas. But poker was calling, so he ambled off to find an open table. He'd play it careful until he got the feel of the room; he didn't want to draw attention to himself by being too flashy or winning too much. Dinner had left him in a very winning mood.

He'd been at it a few hours and was a few hundred dollars ahead when the same noisy group from the restaurant made its presence felt in the casino. Heads turned as Marlette and his friends strode towards a felt-lined craps table. Heyes looked back down at his hand: three jacks and two tens. He put on an unhappy scowl. No use giving his luck away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kid had left the roulette table and was standing off to the side of the room next to a big palm tree, talking with a sparkling girl in a red dress. They seemed to be hitting it off; they were leaning close in towards one another and the girl's face was flushed and happy.

As Heyes laid down his bet he saw a man from Marlette's group leave the craps table and make a beeline for the Kid. He didn't look friendly, and the Kid was so busy with the girl he had stopped paying attention to the room. It was time for Heyes to watch the Kid's back.

"I'll fold," he said regretfully, and tossed down his winning hand. He checked that his derringer was ready if needed, and walked up to the Kid just in time to see the stranger grab hold of Curry's shoulder and spin him around.

"Lay off her, Mister," the man snarled.

Kid straightened, and his eyes turned to steel.

"That don't seem to be any business of yours," he said coldly, and shook the man's hand off of him. He felt the familiar twitch in his right had as he readied for what might come next.

"The Hell it ain't! " the man snarled. "This is MY girl."

The girl shoved herself in front of Curry. "I am NOT your girl, Jim Mackie," she said. "You just WISH I was."

Mackie was having none of it. He was a big man, taller than the Kid with flashy sideburns and lips that looked like they never smiled much. He was liquored up…Heyes could smell the booze even from where he had stopped some two feet behind him. Mackie wanted trouble.

As if on cue, Mackie grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her towards him.

"Ouch!" she protested. "That hurts!" Her tray of chips fell to the floor, and Heyes felt the eyes of the other gamblers looking at them in curiosity.

Heyes carefully put his derringer against Mackie's neck. The man stiffened and let go of the girl.

"You know what this is," Heyes said in his coldest voice. "You've stepped over the line, Mister. Time for you to call it a night."

"Who are you?" Mackie snapped, turning his head to see who was holding the gun on him. "You his babysitter?"

Curry patted Mackie down for a weapon, and found only a stiletto in his inside jacket sleeve. "He's a man who don't like seeing a woman in trouble," he said coldly. "And like he says, I think it's a good idea for you to go outside and take in all that fresh mountain air, before anyone gets hurt."

"A fine idea!" a new voice said heartily, and Heyes and Curry looked over to see Sam Marlette striding towards them. Marlette gave Mackie a withering look before turning to Heyes.

"He'll be of no more consequence," Marlette said. "I'm afraid my foreman has enjoyed a bit too much of this establishment's expensive whiskey."

Heyes slowly lowered the derringer. "If you say so, Mister…?"

"Marlette. Sam Marlette. I own a lumber company." He extended his hand, which after a pause Heyes accepted. "My colleague and I were doing a little business with some of our shipping clients. I fear Mr. Mackie lost track of the whiskey he was consuming."

Mackie started to protest, and Marlette gave him a frosty glare. "Enough, Jim!" He turned back to Heyes. "Will you let me make amends for my friend's poor behavior and buy you a drink?"

Heyes and Curry exchanged glances, and shrugged. "Thank you, " Curry said.

"Let me see Mr. Mackie safely out the door, and I'll join you at the bar."

Heyes watched him shoving more than escorting his foreman through the crowd, while Curry whispered something into the girl's ear. She smiled, and gave a nod of agreement before bending down to retrieve her scattered chips.

"Looks like were BOTH having some luck tonight," Curry grinned, and slapped Heyes companionably on the shoulder.

Heyes smiled. "And meeting up with Sam Marlette?" he wondered aloud. "Is that lucky, too?"

Marlette was all smiles as he ordered a bottle of bourbon with a price tag that would have eaten up all of Heyes' winnings.

"Gentlemen!" he toasted, and their glasses clinked. "What brings you up to our little lake?"

Heyes explained about selling off the cattle and deciding to explore the countryside. "I didn't realize so much was going on up here," he concluded.

Marlette motioned expansively. "It's a place where a man can make money, providing he's willing to work at it. Me, I chose lumber. Lumber, shipping, and a bit of silver mining on the side. I own more than ten thousand acres of timberland on the east side of the lake."

Heyes whistled appreciatively. "Who's buying the wood?"

"A lot goes to the Comstock Mining Company down in Silver City. They're building huge mines there, and need strong timber for the shafts. This here is virgin wood we're selling. Strong as can be."

"How do you get the lumber over the mountains to Nevada?" asked Curry curiously.

Pride washed over Marlette's face. "By the grace of the Incline Railroad. You heard of it?" Curry and Heyes shook their heads. "A marvel of modern technology," he boasted. "Eight thousand feel of cable…nearly 14,000 pounds of it…crank the logs up 1400 feet of mountain. At the top it's dumped in to a flume that carries it into a water tunnel through the mountain. Nearly 4,000 feet long the tunnel is! Lumber comes out near the Virginia and Truckee Railroad, where it's then hauled off to Carson City."

"I'd like to see that," Heyes admitted.

Marlette poured another round of drinks. "Well, you will be my guest then! How long are you fellas staying around?"

Heyes shrugged. "We don't know exactly. As I said before, we came up here to see the territory. What we've seen so far has been mighty pretty."

Marlette's eyes twinkled. "Ah yes. I noticed you making conversation with Miss Cosgrove back in the restaurant."

Heyes was surprised. "You know her?"

Marlette's eyes clouded briefly, and he sipped his drink. "We're a small community," he said evasively, and then abruptly changed the subject.

"When you're not rounding up cattle, what do you gentlemen do for a living? I'm impressed with how you handled the incident back there with my foreman."

Now it was Heyes's turn to be vague. "Little of this, little of that. We've done some railroad work. Some security work for a bank."

Curry swallowed a chuckle. Bank security! Well, he guessed there was some truth in that! Marlette looked impressed.

"And now you are gentlemen of leisure."

Heyes smiled. "For a bit. We'll see where it takes us."

Marlette straightened and shook their hands again. "Well, it's been, shall we say, an _interesting_ evening. Perhaps we'll run into each other again."

It was Curry's turn to smile, but it didn't reach his wary eyes. "As you say, Mr. Marlette, it's a small community. I'm sure we will."

It was a beautiful mountain morning as Heyes paid for the steamer tickets and waited for Emma and Hadley to arrive. The air was crisp, though by noon it would feel like summer again; not a cloud smudged the brilliant blue sky; sunlight bounced off the lake surface making it glisten like diamonds. The _SS Tahoe_ was belching smoke as a small crowd of passengers made their way up the boarding ramp.

"I hope we're not late!"

Heyes turned to see Emma and her son hurrying up the dock. She looked lovely in a bright yellow dress with white lace sleeves. Hadley was dressed in wool knickers and newly shined shoes. He ducked his head shyly as Heyes extended his hand.

"Glad to meet you, Hadley. I'm Joshua Smith."

A small tentative hand met his. "I'm Hadley." He pulled away from his mother's skirt as he took in Heyes' grin.

"A man needs his own ticket," Heyes said and handed one over to the boy.

"Thank you, sir!" he exclaimed, and as his courage grew he began looking around him with interest at the scurrying dockworkers and excited passengers. Washoe Indian women were hawking baskets and other wares. At the end of the dock a stage was waiting to take debarking passengers to other resorts along the lake.

"Shall we?" Heyes extended an arm to Emma, who wrapped her hand around it with a smile.

They ambled up towards the front of the boat and watched as the shoreline receded as they headed into the lake. The lake's bottom was clearly visible, sloping gently as the water deepened to a point where the lake seemed bottomless. Fishermen were trawling for lake trout, and Hadley waved excitedly at them as the steamer chugged by. Soon they were passing along Zephyr Cove and lovely green meadows pushing up against the sheer wall of the mountains. A crewman pointed out Cave Rock, a huge monolith some four hundred feet high. It wasn't too long before they pulled into Glenbrook, where several passengers disembarked to stretch their legs. The town was bustling; three other steamers lined the long docks; smoke from saw mills billowed up into the sky, and they could see teams of workmen loading lumber onto barges. Heyes found a pleasant-looking restaurant near the shore, and soon he, Emma and Hadley were seated at a window enjoying fresh trout and fried potatoes.

"This is wonderful," Emma said with a sigh, looking out on the beautiful waters. "Thank you so much."

Heyes asked Emma to tell him about herself. How did she come to be living in such an out-of-the-way place as Tahoe?

"My husband," she said with a sad smile. "He heard there was money to be made in the lumber mills. We had been living in Sacramento, but the mountains called to him. We moved here two years ago." She took a sip of water, and glanced at her son, who was busily chomping on his potatoes. "Jeffrey…my husband…found a position on the Incline Railroad. For a while things were wonderful. He was making good money, and Hadley was doing well in school. I was a little lonely, but my family was happy, and that was all that mattered. Jeffrey was killed when the cable hauling up two cars loaded with lumber suddenly lost traction; the cars plummeted downhill, with nothing to stop them until they hit the bottom. The workers tried to jump out of the way, and most succeeded. " Her voice quavered. "Jeffrey did not."

Heyes frowned. "Did they ever discover what caused the cable to break?"

Emma shook her head. "Not really. They said it had to do with the clutch. A design problem. They have since installed a new version which is said to be safer."

Emma looked thoughtfully out the window. "Afterwards, I didn't quite know what to do with myself. I don't have any family, except for Hadley." She smiled at the boy. "Mr. Marlette offered me work in his hotel, and I decided to accept. It was less disruptive for my son, and the work gives me an opportunity to save up money and decide what to do next."

"You don't seem to care for Marlette much," Heyes said. "Your body language last night," he explained at her puzzled look.

"That's true. I suppose I blame him for Jeffrey's death. He was in such a hurry to build his lumber railway, I think he was willing to take some shortcuts." She sighed, a wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin. "But that's in the past. What's important is to build our future."

_Amen to that, _Heyes thought ruefully.

Curry found Lurleen sitting with two of the other casino girls at a picnic table near the water. It was a pretty spot, shaded by tall pine trees, and quiet except for the lapping of the water against a small gravelly beach. Lurleen hadn't yet dressed for work; she wore a simple cotton dress laced becomingly at her waist.

"Ladies," Curry said with a polite tip of his hat. He had strapped on his gun for his stroll around the lake, and he noticed the other girls eyeing him with curiosity.

"Hey, cowboy," a dark haired girl of maybe eighteen greeted. "Can you use that sidearm?"

Curry grinned. "Only for rattlesnakes, ma'am."

She laughed. "Plenty of them varmints here. The two-legged kind." The other girl giggle, and Lurleen got to her feet to join the Kid.

"We're not supposed to "associate", as the boss says, with customers," she warned.

"Well then, let's not associate. Let's just walk along the lake here and talk a bit."

Lurleen looked around nervously to see if anyone from the hotel was watching, before stepping willingly to his side.

"I've only got an hour or so before I have to get to work," she said.

"How is it, working up here?"

"Pretty good, mostly. The guests are good tippers. Problem is the job only lasts through the warm weather. Once the snows come, the hotel shuts down and we gotta find new jobs." She shrugged. "But I usually make enough to take care of myself."

Curry smiled. "I'm sure you do." He drew her closer her to him, and she found herself staring into his friendly blue eyes. She brought her lips willingly to his and they embraced.

"Well, now if that ain't the purtiest sight," a harsh voice said with dripping sarcasm.

Curry and Lurleen quickly separated, and saw Jim Mackie leaning against a tree with his thumbs looped on his belt. He, too, was carrying a pistol.

"You spying on me, Jim?" Lurleen asked angrily. "I told you, I'm not your girl."

Mackie snorted. "You ain't? What about all those nights rollin' on your mattress? If that ain't bein' my girl, I don't know what is."

Lurleen blushed, avoiding Curry's gaze. "It was business, was what it was. You know that, Jim Mackie."

Mackie glared. "I know nuthin'." He straightened away from the tree and fixed angry brown eyes at the Kid. "I gave you a warnin' last night. Keep away from her. But you didn't listen."

Curry kept a careful eye on Mackie's right hand as he, too, straightened. "You mighta given me a warning, but that doesn't mean I have to follow it," he said evenly. "We're just passin' some pleasant time here. And if you don't mind, we'll just continue our walk." Curry extended his arm to Lurleen, who took it with a shaking hand.

"You was doin' more than walkin'," Mackie sneered.

Curry turned back towards him. "No need for bad words," he said. "Just a simple walk." He took a few steps along the beach before Mackie's voice stopped him.

"Time to slap leather, Mister!"

Curry sighed, and turned back to Mackie. "Ain't no need for this," he said. "All we both gotta do is walk away."

"ONE of us, mebbe." Mackie reached for his gun, but before his fingers had even grasped the grip, Curry had drawn and was aiming with deadly accuracy at his heart.

Mackie froze, and slowly lifted his hand from his side.

"Damn!" Lurleen exclaimed. "That's some speed!"

Curry slowly lowered his weapon, and when Mackie seemed like he'd had enough, he slipped the gun smoothly into the holster. "Are we settled, now?"

Mackie nodded. "You may be lightning with that gun, Mister. But a lightning gun has gotta have a name other than Mister Jones. And I'm gonna make it my business to find out who you really are." He turned and walked back up the hill towards the hotel.

"Just Mr. Jones," Curry said softly, shaking his head.

The two partners met up again later that afternoon at the hotel. Curry told Heyes about the showdown with Mackie.

"Sorry it happened, Heyes," he said. "We may have to be moving on."

Heyes finished buttoning his vest and clasped the Kid's shoulder reassuringly. "Wasn't your fault, Kid. We don't need to rush things. He ain't gonna find out who you are anytime soon. Not way up here in the mountains, anyways."

Curry looked glum. "Well, if there's a sheriff's office there are probably wanted posters."

Heyes pursed his lips. "You may be right. But I haven't seen any signs of a marshal here at the hotel. Let's keep our eyes open. I'd like to spend a few more nights at the poker table," he said with a grin. "The hotel guests seem to have a lot of money, and not much card sense."

"Okay, Heyes. But I'm gonna be extra careful."

As Heyes had predicted, the night was profitable. A freight company owner from San Francisco didn't even blink after losing nearly a thousand dollars ton one spectacularly good hand. Heyes bought the table a round of drinks, and stood up to join Curry at the roulette wheel.

"I'm gonna turn in," Heyes said. "Wouldn't look good to win much more tonight."

Suddenly the sky was lit up by a burst of orange from somewhere along the shore across the lake. The noise in the casino suddenly quieted, and several of the gamblers clustered at the window to get a better look.

"Where do you think it is?" Heyes heard one man ask his companion.

"Hard to tell," the man replied. "But fire is never a good thing at a lumber mill."

They were too far away to do anything. Heyes and Curry walked out to the dock and watched as the flames seemed to grow, and then turn smokier as they finally subsided.

"Wonder what happened?" Curry asked without expecting an answer. "I didn't see any lightning."

Heyes frowned. "Nope. Me neither. Looks bad for whoever owns that mill."

A slight smell of burned wood drifted over them as they returned to their room. As Heyes stretched out on the bed idly watching his partner clean his handgun, he reflected that there always seemed to be a snake somewhere in paradise.

Emma had some information about the fire, which she shared with them as she brought them dinner the next day.

"It was the Blue Lake Lumber Company," she said as she laid the plates down.

"It looks like someone intentionally set a fire in the yard. They managed to put it out before it got to the mill itself."

"Anyone hurt?" asked Curry.

Emma shook her head. "Luckily, no one. But that mill has seen a lot of troubles since it opened last year. Stolen shipments. A saw that was tampered with. Last night was the first time a fire was involved."

"How'd you hear all this?" Curry asked curiously.

Emma blushed. "I am an acquaintance of the mill's owner, William Coverton. His daughter attends school with Hadley. Mr. Coverton was here briefly this morning trying to hire on new workers to clean up from the fire."

She moved off to take care of another table while Heyes wondered what was behind her blush. Curry dug contentedly into his stew. "Looks like someone wants to put Blue Lake out of business."

Curry stopped chewing, and looked suspiciously at his partner. "Yup. But that ain't OUR business, Joshua."

"Wasn't saying it was!" Heyes poked at his mashed potatoes. "It's just a puzzle."

Curry laughed. "I know, and you like puzzles!"

Emma returned to freshen their coffee. "I wonder," she said, and then stopped herself.

"What is it?" Heyes asked.

Emma looked uncertain. "I remember you said you both have done some work in security." The two ex-outlaws exchanged barely concealed smiles. "I wonder if you might be of assistance to Mr. Coverton. Perhaps you could stop anything more serious from happening, if you could find out who is responsible for the mill's troubles."

Curry had just started to shake his head "no" when Heyes shook his head agreeably. "We could certainly meet Mr. Coverton and see if we could be of service," he said. He saw Curry's look of dismay, and patted him on the shoulder. "C'mon, Thaddeus. We've got some time on our hands, and Mr. Coverton is a friend of Emma here."

Emma sighed in obvious relief. "That's wonderfully generous of you two gentlemen! I'm driving over to the mill this afternoon to bring meals for the fire crews. Perhaps you'd care to accompany me?"

"We'll be there!" Heyes said enthusiastically while Curry sighed inwardly and helped himself to another roll.

Smoke was still rising from the charred lumber as they drove the wagon loaded with sandwiches and soup into the yard. It was a mess. Ugly piles of blackened wood were scattered about the muddy ground, and exhausted workers with soot covered faces stood by with water buckets and axes.

A man in work pants and a jacket hurried over to greet them as Heyes and Curry jumped onto the damp ground.

"Hello! I'm Bill Coverton," he said, extending his hand. He was a tall, muscular man with dark hair beginning to gray at the temples. He looked to be in his thirties, and despite the spectacles he wore, gave the appearance of a man comfortable with working in the outdoors. Coverton eyed their sidearms, but said nothing. "I own what's left of this mill, as you must know." He extended a supporting hand to help Emma step off the wagon, and tipped his hat. "Morning, Emma. You're an angel for helping us out today."

"My pleasure, Bill," she said. "I know your men must be famished after working all night."

Heyes noted the casual use of their first names.

Coverton gave a sharp whistle and two mill workers came over to assist Emma in carrying the food over to a makeshift outdoor table. The other workers clustered around with hungry smiles as she laid out the meal.

"Emma thought we might be of some use to you," Heyes said. "She says you been having more than a few acts of sabotage here."

"That's true. But there's no pattern. Stolen tools, jammed gears in the machinery, and now this fire. "

"You have any unhappy workers?" asked Curry.

Coverton shook his head. "Don't think so. I pay a fair wage. There's always men showing up looking for work, so my crew knows they're lucky to have a job. Nobody's come to me with any demands for changes. I'm stumped."

Heyes looked around the muddy yard. The men that weren't digging into the soup and sandwiches were working steadily to clean up after the mess. There didn't seem to be any obvious loitering or malcontents grouped together refusing to work.

"Well, I don't know what we can do to help out. Have you posted any security guards on the property at night?"

Coverton looked thoughtful. "You know, that's such a straightforward suggestion I don't know why I haven't thought of it before. I've been so preoccupied with getting the mill up and running, that's all that's been on my mind. Securing contracts, finding customers, buying timber."

"Who's your main competition?" asked Heyes.

"Sam Marlette, of course!" Coverton grimaced. "He's the huge frog in this pond. I don't think he was too happy when I started up my mill, but we're so small we can't be making much of a dent in his profits. I'm still sending my logs down the lake on barges and hauling them over the pass to Carson City. Marlette's got his Incline Railroad."

"Still, he's not a man, I suspect, to just sit by if he's losing customers."

Coverton shrugged. "I wouldn't suspect Marlette of underhanded business like this. If he wanted to get me out, he'd lower his prices and take away my customers. So far he hasn't done that."

Emma joined them carrying the now empty baskets. "I think we're finished up here," she said. "I need to get back to the hotel to set up for dinner."

Coverton quickly took the baskets from her and helped her get back on the wagon. "Thanks again, Emma. This was a big help for the boys."

She smiled prettily. "Now don't be a stranger. Hadley always looks forward to your visits."

He tipped his hat and watched as Heyes picked up the reins and guided the horses back onto the lake road.

That night in the casino while Heyes found a spot at a poker table, Curry wandered among the tables and looked for Lurleen. She was nowhere to be seen, and he frowned. Another pretty cigarette girl approached him, one of the ladies who had been sitting with Lurleen by the lake.

"Chips or smokes Mr. Jones?" she asked with fluttering eyelashes.

"Neither, thanks. I was looking for Lurleen."

The girl lowered her eyes, looking around furtively before speaking. "She got punched around last night. She's not feelin' too good."

Curry felt his stomach tighten. "Is she hurt bad? Who did it?"

"Jim Mackie," the girl whispered. "He was angrier than a ragin' bull. Gave her a black eye and cut up her lip."

Curry scowled. "Can I see her?"

The girl's eyes widened in fright. "No, no! Nobody's allowed in the sleeping quarters. It could get us fired!"

"You seen Mackie today?" Curry asked tightly. "Did Lurleen tell the marshal what happened."?

The girl laughed bitterly. "You don't think a marshal cares what happens to one of us casino girls, do you? Lurleen knows to keep her mouth shut. Mackie's probably run home to Papa Marlette, and no one in his right mind wants to go up against the owner of the largest lumber business on the lake." She looked around nervously. "I gotta go. Can't talk to long with one customer."

As she stepped away Curry reached out for her arm. "Tell Lurleen I'm real sorry," he said. "And if she needs anything, let me know."

The girl nodded and moved off through the noisy crowd.

"Well," Heyes said later in their room when Curry told him what he'd learned, "if Mackie's keepin' low at his mill he won't have time or inclination to run over to the marshal's office and check the wanted posters."

Curry snorted. "That's a pretty cynical way of looking at what happened to Lurleen."

Heyes' eyes softened. "Didn't mean it that way, Kid. She's a pretty girl and didn't deserve gettin' roughed up. If she don't want to file a complaint, don't see what we can do about it." His eyes narrowed as a look of determination washed across Curry's face. "You ain't plannin' on doin' something yourself, are you?"

"I was thinkin' on it."

"Then think again! Marlette's got plenty of men workin' for him that could cause a lot of trouble for us. If the money at the tables wasn't so good, I'd be sayin' we should be pushing off from here."

"Miss Emma don't have anything to do with you wantin' to stay, does she?" Curry teased.

Heyes shook his head. "Nah. She's real nice, Kid. But somethin' tells me she is looking in the direction of Mr. Coverton for her future. I can't offer her anything."

Curry sat down on his bed and began tugging off his boots. "We are a sorry pair, ain't we?" he said. The boots clomped on the wood floor and Curry stretched back on the bed. "Never lucky in love."

When they were eating breakfast the next morning they were surprised to see Coverton come into the dining room. He scanned the tables, clearly looking for somebody, and when he spotted them he headed over to them. "Mind if I join you for a coffee?" he asked.

"Sure!" Heyes motioned to the empty seat. "How's the cleanup going?"

"We're starting up the saws this morning. Didn't lose as much as we could."

He looked up with a smile as Emma came over to him with a coffee pot. "More coffee?" she asked Heyes and Curry, who nodded thanks.

"And one for me, too," Coverton said. Emma poured him a cup and moved on to other diners.

"What brings you here?" asked Curry.

Coverton looked around quickly to make sure their conversation remained private, and leaned closer in to the table. "I was thinking about the problems I've been having, and started wondering. " He took a sip from his coffee while Heyes and Curry waited attentively. "I need to pick up the payroll this week. It's in a bank in Carson City. I usually go myself, but what with the fire and all, I don't want to leave my property. And I was thinking that payroll could be mighty tempting to whoever is making all this mischief."

"Who knows about the payroll?"

"It isn't hard to figure. I pay the men at the end of the month. That's next week. If someone were watching for me to head up the lake road toward Glenbrook, they'd have a pretty fair idea what was going on." He took another gulp from his cup and looked at the two partners. "I was hoping to hire you to men for the job. I'll bet you're pretty handy with those side arms you're carrying. Emma says you're men I can trust, and I believe her. I'd pay you 500 dollars a piece."

Curry whistled softly. "That's a lot of money for a delivery service."

Coverton smiled faintly. "Well, it's a delivery service that could put you at some risk." Heyes and Curry shared a silent communication. "So, will you help me out? I'd be much obliged."

Curry nodded briefly, and Heyes turned back to Coverton. "Sure. You just tell us what we need to do and make sure we have the paperwork so that the bank will give us the money. If we're lucky, it will be a nice peaceful ride over the mountains."

Two days later they got an early start, saddling up their horses for a ride that promised to be strenuous as well as beautiful. They followed the lakeshore up to Glenbrook, and then started up the steep grade towards Silver Mountain, which was still capped with snow even this late into summer. They paralleled the cog railway of Marlette's lumber company, and they could see massive amounts of logs being hauled up the steep slope. The canyon they rode through was dotted with towering, sun burnt rocks carved in fanciful shapes, and Heyes and Curry could enjoy the ride, figuring that trouble, if any, would occur on the return trip, when their saddlebags were full of money. At the summit they stretched out and ate sandwiches Emma had packed; the horses munched contentedly on wild grasses, and the view was staggering. They could look down a long canyon and see the Sierras on one side, and the Sweewater Mountains on the other.

They reached Carson City mid afternoon, and found a town bustling with wagons and commerce. One of the big lumber flumes brought logs right into town, where they were stacked and carted off to any of several lumber mills in the area. They admired the new state capitol building, and rode past several grand homes built by lumber and silver magnates. The town itself wasn't that much to look at; the older buildings were all constructed of wood, and the hot Nevada sun gave them a dry and brittle appearance. The main street was wide enough to handle two directions of wagons and carts; the railroad line connected the town to markets to the east.

Heyes and Curry dismounted in front of the Nevada Central Bank, and stopped briefly to pat off the trail dust from their clothes before stepping inside. Heyes felt the familiar tingle of tension as he surveyed the two teller stations, and behind them the large steel door of the vault. He exchanged a wry smile with his partner as they removed their hats and found the bank manager.

"Clyde Benson," the man said gruffly as he took the letter of introduction from Heyes and scanned it using his eyeglasses. He was a portly, no-nonsense man dressed in an expensive wool suit and linen vest. He eyed the two partners skeptically before grunting and handing the paper back to Heyes.

"I expected to see Coverton," he said. "He's the one comes each month."

"There was a fire at the mill this week," Heyes explained. "He didn't want to leave his property."

"I see. So you want to pick up the money now? "

"Yes sir," Heyes said, and handed him a satchel he'd stashed in his saddlebags.

Benson grunted again. "Please take a seat, gentlemen, and I'll collect the payroll."

Back on the street, they surveyed the constant stream of traffic and spotted a tidy-looking hotel a block away. "Let's get a room there for the night," Heyes suggested.

Curry raised an eyebrow. "You don't wanta head back?"

"Nah. Wouldn't want to have any problems and spend the night up on the mountain. Besides," he said, giving Kid a wink, "I got a plan."

They had gotten to the point near the summit where the canyon narrowed and steep granite cliffs rose on each side, when two horsemen pulled out from behind an outcropping of rock and blocked their way. Two other men rode in behind them. All wore masks over the faces, and had drawn their weapons.

"Raise your hands! Now!" the man who seemed to be the leader barked.

Slowly, Heyes and Curry obeyed. It was happening just as Heyes predicted.

"We're just riding over to enjoy a day at the lake," Heyes said, making at least a small show of resistance.

Another rider snorted. "You'll just have to change your plans then. We know you got a pile of money in those saddlebags. And we plan to lighten your load."

The rider pulled up to them and removed their weapons. "You!" he ordered Heyes, "Mr. Smooth Talker. Open your saddlebags and turn it over."

Heyes carefully pulled out the satchel and held it in the air. The man grabbed it and lashed it around his saddle horn.

"Now get off your horses," the man who seemed to be the leader ordered. "It's a nice morning. I'm sure you'll enjoy a fine walk."

After Heyes and Curry dismounted, a rider grabbed their horses' reins and started to lead them down the narrow road towards the summit. The leader slowly got off his horse and nodded to his men. One grabbed Curry and held his arms behind him while the leader stepped over to the kid and landed a solid punch into his midsection. "I just don't like your looks, mister!" he growled. Curry sagged as several better aimed jabs landed against his chest and face.

"Hey!" Heyes protested and stepped towards his partner. The man still seated on his horse lashed out at him with the butt of his whip, and Heyes collapsed onto the ground.

"Shut up!" he snarled.

The leader straightened up, massaging his knuckles as Curry's legs finally gave out from under him and he sagged to the dirty road. With one last kick into the Kid's ribs, the two men mounted and spurred their horses up the road.

For a moment it was quiet, then Heyes opened his eyes with a groan. He turned toward the Kid. "You all right?"

Curry nodded.

"Guess we know who is behind this, don't we?"

"Mackie. Was he stupid enough not to figure out we'd recognize his voice?" Kid got slowly to his feet and dusted off his trousers. He reached a hand over to Heyes and helped him up.

"Too bad they took the horses. Guess we should figgered they would." Curry looked around and found their guns where the rider had tossed them off the road.

Heyes pulled out his watch and smiled. "Well, actually I DID figure that. But help will be on the way." He put his watch back into his pocket and squinted up at the sun. "Might as well start stretching our legs. Beats standing here in the sun."

They'd been trudging along the narrow road for maybe an hour when they heard the heavy sound of hoof beats behind them. As they turned, a coach pulled by two horses was approaching. When Heyes and Curry raised up their arms, the driver pulled the horses to a stop. He surveyed their bruises with a frown.

"What happened to you fellas?"

"We were robbed," Heyes said. "Can you give us a lift over to Glenwood Station?"

He glanced into the coach and saw two well-dressed couples staring at him in surprise. Vacation travelers, looked like. Heyes tipped his hat. "Sorry to delay you folks," he said. "We won't be a bother."

"Climb up with me, then," the driver said, and moved over to make room for the two men.

Once the carriage was back in motion, Curry turned to his partner. "So go ahead and tell me. How'd you know this coach was gonna be on the road this morning?"

Heyes winked. "Saw the schedule posted at the hotel. It does a regular run for tourists."

The driver made good time on the well- traveled road, and they pulled into Glenbrook at mid-day. Curry jumped down and politely helped the passengers to disembark, then joined Heyes on the boardwalk.

"What now?"

Heyes grimaced. "We find the marshal and hope he hasn't been reading his wanted posters lately."

A solidly built man in his fifties looked up alertly as they entered his small but tidy office. "Tom Slade," the marshal said, and stood up to shake their hands. He frowned at Curry's bruises. "What happened to you boys?"

Heyes explained about the robbery. "And we think we know who is behind it," he concluded.

Slade's eyebrows flew up. "How's that?"

"We had a run-in awhile back with a man named Jim Mackie."

Slade snorted. "I know the man. Got a real chip on his shoulder."

"Well, he's also got ten thousand dollars of the Blue Lake lumber Company's payroll. We recognized his voice," Curry added. "He was fool enough to run his mouth off."

"How you gonna prove he took the money? Seems to me it's your word against his."

Heyes grinned. "Marshall, if you join us in finding him, we can prove he did it."

Sam Marlette was talking with some of his work crew as they walked up to the mill's headquarters. Marlette was chewing on a thick cigar, hunched over a topographical map and not happy to be interrupted.

"Marshall," he greeted gruffly. "What's the purpose of your visit?"

"Afternoon, Mr. Marlette," Slade said with a tip of his hat. "I believe you have met Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones."

Marlette snorted. "And?"

"We're looking for Jim Mackie. Know where he's at?"

Marlette's eyes hardened. "What do you want Jim for?"

"Just take us to him, if you please. We'll explain."

Marlette wasn't about to go tromping across his muddy yard and soil his well-polished leather shoes. He motioned for a workman to come over. "Find Mackie," he said. "Now!"

A few minutes later Mackie emerged from one of the processing buildings. He was in an angry conversation with the man who had found him, and it wasn't until he was just across the yard that he caught site of Heyes and Curry. Mackie reached for his gun, but Curry's hand flashed like the wind. Curry aimed at Mackie's holster, and tore it off his belt before Mackie had even gripped the gun handle.

"Hold it!" the marshal yelled, and when Mackie froze he strode over to him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back to Marlette, Heyes and Curry.

Marlette was furious. "I won't stand for gun play here! Mackie, explain yourself."

Mackie glared and dropped his gaze. "It's between us," he said. "The gunslinger and me."

"I think it's more than that," Slade said. "Mr. Marlette, these two men are accusing your foreman of robbing them up on the Placerville Road this morning."

"Ridiculous! Jim may have a temper, but he's no thief."

"Oh, he's a thief," Heyes said. "And I can prove it." He turned to Mackie. "Take off your gloves."

Mackie glared. "The hell I will!"

"Do as he says," Slade ordered. Mackie looked at his employer for help, but Marlette only scowled.

"Think you'd better, Jim," he said sternly. "Though whatever cockamamie reason…"

He stopped talking as Mackie removed the glove and revealed his hands colored in a blue dye. Heyes grinned.

"What the…?" asked the marshal.

"I put a pouch of marker dye inside the satchel under the buckle," Heyes explained. "If the satchel wasn't opened in a particular way, the pouch would rip open and dump powder all over the opener's hands." His smile broadened. "Looks like we caught you blue-handed, Mackie."

Coverton joined them for a final dinner at the resort. It was a clear, crisp evening, and the stars reflected off the lake's smooth surface. As Heyes lifted his wine glass for a toast, he realized he was sorry to be leaving.

"Thank you, gentlemen, " Coverton said heartily. Their glasses clinked. "I believe you've saved more than the payroll. You've saved my business. Now that Mackie admits he was trying to sabotage me, I hopefully won't have any more problems. Still, I don't understand why he was going behind his employer's back. I believe Marlette when he says he knows nothing about this."

"My guess is he set the fire and stole from you to scare you off," Heyes said. "And the payroll was how he was gonna pay for it all."

"Pure greed," Curry added. "We've seen a lot of it."

The men rose as Emma came to the table, not as a waitress this time, but dressed nicely in a dark blue dress which brought out the color of her eyes. Coverton pulled out a chair, and Emma sat down.

"I'm so glad you could join us," Heyes said. "I didn't think you were allowed to mingle with guests."

Emma blushed as Coverton reached out and laid his hand on hers. "I am no longer an employee," she explained.

"Emma has consented to become my wife," Coverton said proudly. "I lost my own Katherine three years ago, and I was a lonely man until she came into my life. This whole experience with the fire and the stealing made me realize that life is very unpredictable. And that when I see something…or someone…I want….I am not going to waste time."

Curry lifted his glass. "Then, a toast to the happy couple!"

"Are you folks ready to order?" a soft voice asked. Curry's mouth fell open as he looked up at the waitress and saw Lurleen standing there. She was dressed quite properly in a black skirt and white waistcoat, and was holding a stack of menus

"Lurleen!"

She grinned at him. Despite the slight bruising he could see on one cheek, she looked beautiful. "Someone put in a good word for me," she said, and Heyes put on his best deadpan expression. "I've been moved from the casino to the restaurant."

"That's great news! " Curry said. "Really great!"

Lurleen's cheeks dimpled. "Thank you. Now, tonight I really recommend the lake trout. Let me know when you've decided."

Curry followed her as she walked across the restaurant to the setup station, and then turned to his partner. "Something tells me you played a role in this."

Heyes' look was all-innocent. "Who, me?" At Kid's skeptical look, his lips twitched into a slight smile.

Curry nodded. "Thanks, partner."

"I just wish you didn't have to leave," Emma said. "Your time here was anything but relaxing, and it's a pity you can't enjoy all the resort has to offer."

Curry and Heyes exchanged a silent communication. They knew it was only a matter of time before Slade figured out who the man was who could draw a gun faster than the eye could blink.

Especially a man with a name like "Jones."

_Author's Note: Although this is a work of fiction, many of the people and places in the story are real. There really WAS a Tallac Resort lit with electric lights; Sam Marlette was indeed the owner of the Sierra Nevada Wood and Lumber Company; at that time steamers operated regularly around the lake, which was becoming a popular tourist attraction. The Incline Railroad worked as described. And Lake Tahoe is still as beautiful as it was when Mark Twain marveled at its deep blue waters._


End file.
